Disclaimer: I don't own iZombie or any of its characters.

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Chapter One: How They're Connected

It was very late, but he couldn't imagine trying to sleep after everything that happened. Alone now in the basement of the funeral home, Blaine played back the events of the past few hours. He stared down at his hands that so comfortably held a gun, fingers that pulled the trigger without a moment's hesitation. There was no remorse about killing those men. They kidnapped a woman and would've killed her; he shouldn't feel bad, should he? Except even with that logic, Blaine worried part of the reason he could shrug it off was because his old self was starting to creep back into his mind.

Admittedly, knowing he was a killer before did make the idea of being one now go down easier. Blaine wished other aspects of his past were easier to get a handle on, especially when relating to Peyton. There was a difference between being told information and knowing it. Blaine now knew he could kill; he didn't know the extent of his relationship with Peyton, whatever he told that detective.

A problem for another day. With one employee dead and the other quitting, Blaine was left taking care of the funeral home and the brain business. Both sides flowed together in a strangely natural way. Memories returning or him just settling more into this new life? He couldn't be sure.

He heard his name called and quickly covered the brain he was working on. To his pleasant surprise, it was Peyton coming down the stairs. He was still getting to know her but so far most of the memories surrounding her were good ones. The others treated him with a wary acceptance; Peyton acted more willing, going so far as to protect him from Boss and the press. Those actions and her thanking him now led him to the question that was growing more nagging in his mind.

"Over the past few days some things have been said that led me to believe we, ah..." He hesitated only a moment before spitting it out: "Were we a couple?"

The question caught her off-guard enough that at first all she could do was let out a surprised breath. Blaine wasn't sure what he wanted the answer to be, but he felt confident she would be honest with him. Finally she gathered herself together with a quick wetting of her lips.

"No, Blaine, we weren't a couple. You and I..." She trailed off, glancing off to the side as she looked for words. When she looked back at him, her eyes were a little sad. "To be honest with you, maybe we would've been if you weren't... you know, you. I liked you when I thought you were just John Deaux, owner of Shady Plots Funeral Home."

"And you liked me a lot less once you found out I was Blaine DeBeers, maker of zombies and killer of teenagers," he finished for her.

She responded with a weak little smile. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Understandable." And it really was, though a small part of him still felt disappointed in this result. He thought he felt something between the two of them. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. "Still," he went on with a casual smile, "that offer of cards still stands. Though I can understand if I'm not the first number on your speed-dial."

"You wouldn't even make it into the top five." Something about the way Peyton's lip curled and the twinkle in her eye assured him she was only teasing. Blaine let out a breathy laugh and clasped a hand over his heart.

"Ouch. Way to play into the heartless lawyer stereotype." Peyton snorted and gave him a light slap on the arm.

"I'm leaving now. Thank you for this." She held up his card. "I'll see you later." Blaine nodded, eyes following her as she made her way back up the stairs.

Blaine turned up the radio and went back to work. His mood was considerably lighter after Peyton's visit. He might not have his memories but he was still perseptive, and he could definitely feel something between himself and Peyton. Maybe it wasn't something from before, but rather something starting now. He sang along with the music, thinking of Peyton as he did.

You got the kind of lovin' that would be so smooth. Give me your heart, make it real or else forget about it.